Celebrity
by MarianaReads
Summary: Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter is enjoying his life of fame and leisure. On the fifth anniversary of the Battle, Harry bumps into someone from his past and his life begins to change. (Post-Hogwarts, pre-epilogue.) Harry/Luna


"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am not a man of many words so this speech will be short, much to everyone's appreciation." Kingsley Shacklebolt paused at the light chuckling that filled the hall. The Minister stared out into the crowd, waiting for the laughter to die down. "I do not need to remind anyone gathered here that today is the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. For I am confident that I am not alone in how keenly I feel the aftershock of the War, even now, these five years removed. I am certain that I will never be able to forget those who so bravely fought and died in the War, and I am certain that this terrible pang of sadness will never leave me." At the mention of the dead, the crowd hushed completely and the collective grief was almost a tangible entity in the room. Kingsley Shacklebolt stopped his speech and briefly bowed his head, paying homage to the departed. "However," he began again, lifting his head, "we also gather in celebration for those who we have lost did not die in vain. Let us spend this night together, remembering those who are not here but also reveling in the victory that was so painfully won. Though our work is not finished, we can take pride in what we have already accomplished." Shacklebolt stepped back from the podium, and the crowd broke out into applause.

Next to Harry, Ron groaned. "That's just like Kingsley, y'know. Take a night of celebration and remind everyone of the doom hanging over it. Can't we have one bloody night to be happy?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and threw back the last swallow of straight fire whiskey in his glass. "Well, mate. He has a point… but Kingsley also told us to celebrate. And celebrate is _exactly _what I intend on doing tonight."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, I suppose you have plenty to celebrate. What're you now? _Witches Weekly_'s most eligible bachelor and I do believe I saw that you were also named the sexiest wizard under thirty by _The Daily Brew_."

Harry rolled his eyes and smirked. "Well, when they're right, they're right, eh? And you should be happy to be so blessed by my presence. You're in the inner circle of The Chosen One, Ron. You're fit by association and can reap the benefits of the attention I've garnered." Harry eyed the table of attractive, young witches at the next table who were casting glances their way. "Indeed, I do think this night _will _be successful. What'd you say, mate? Shall we make the rounds?"

"I wouldn't have thought it possible, but your ego grows daily," Ron replied, muttering under his breath. "You can keep the attention… they're all for you," Ron said, jutting his chin towards the witches who were now openly staring at Harry. Harry winked at a particularly pretty brunette who giggled loudly at the attention. "I plan on getting happily pissed with my mates and going home with Hermione." Ron glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. "And Ginny is supposed to be home later this month. You might want to keep that in the back of your mind. There's Hermione. I'll catch up with you later." Ron stood and clapped Harry on the shoulder, before crossing to Hermione who was deep in conversation with a grey haired witch.

Harry sighed to himself and looked down into his empty glass. Had it really been five years already? Harry could hardly believe it as time seemed to pass in a blur. In the years following the end of the War, Harry's status within the wizarding world had shifted from a celebrated savior to that of a very popular celebrity, the likes of which topped the ridiculous lists that Ron never failed to remind him of. At first, Harry had fought against the new fame and tried tirelessly to distance himself from the playboy reputation. After all, Harry was a very good Auror and one who took his work seriously… but after a while it simply became easy just to slip into everyone's new perception of him. And if Harry was honest with himself, he would admit that he was having _fun_ with it all and who could blame him? Harry was constantly being invited to extravagant events and parties, and being introduced to all sorts of witches and wizards. Harry cast another glance towards the table of witches and smiled. _I think that I deserve a bit of fun after what I've been through_, he thought to himself.

Harry stood to cross the room and make his way to the bar. Dean and Seamus stood leaning against the countertop and nodded to Harry as he approached.

"Alright there, Harry?" Dean said, motioning to the bartender for another drink.

"Make that two," Harry said, nodding to the bartender before turning towards his friends. "Dean, Seamus." Harry accepted his drink and sipped the liquor as his eyes scanned the crowd. The general atmosphere of the party was slowly lightening up as Kingsley's solemn words began to slip from everyone's minds. Harry had to admit that Ron was right – Shacklebolt had been too serious – but at least the night seemed to be picking up.

"Who's that talking to Longbottom?" Seamus asked, peering into the crowd. Harry glanced at his friend and then followed his gaze. Neville stood, facing them, and was apparently deeply engaged in conversation with a short blonde witch. Harry frowned as he tried to place the woman. Harry studied the woman – her cornflower blonde hair fell in loose curls ending just at the small of her back and her gown was clingy enough that Harry could appreciate that she had a great figure.

Dean rolled his eyes at the both of them. "That's obviously Luna Lovegood." Harry blinked at Dean and then turned his head back to Neville and – was it? – Luna. Seamus barked out a laugh.

"Christ Jesus, _obviously _Luna Lovegood. Maybe I'm going blind in me old age but I do _not _remember Luna Lovegood looking like _that _at Hogwarts." Seamus laughed meanly. "I see she's gotten rid of her radish earrings and actually thought to look in a mirror before going out into public."

"Don't be an asshole, Seamus," Dean muttered, taking a sip of his drink.

"Me? An asshole? Never heard of such an accusation in me life but let's all be honest, mate. Luna's either an extremely late bloomer or the girl's learned some handy magic since we've seen her last."

Harry laughed at that. "I hate to side with Seamus, but I have to agree."

"See, Dean? Right we are, Harry," Seamus said, nodding towards Harry. "And if the front of her looks half as good as the back of her does, well – at least we'll have something to look at as she spews her usual madness. Let's see now, shall we lads? Oye, Longbottom!"

Neville looked up at the three and lifted his hand in a wave. Luna turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder back at the bar and her eyes connected with Harry's. She looked him up and down before turning her attention back to Neville, completely unaffected by Harry's presence.


End file.
